


Four Seasons

by groundkei



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Stream of Consciousness, Wedding, soft, tsukkiyama through the years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:54:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28008777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/groundkei/pseuds/groundkei
Summary: Yamaguchi asks Tsukishima how much he loves him, and Tsukishima spends the rest of his time looking for an answer in between seasons.
Relationships: Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 8
Kudos: 73





	Four Seasons

**Author's Note:**

> Happy 12/11! I thought I'd make a veeeeery short one-shot for tsukkiyama since it's their day :DD it was nice trying to navigate through tsukishima's point of view for this one hahaha i always love writing about how much he loves yamaguchi bc that tall blond boy really has a lot of feelings for his best friend and he's just so so soft sjjdjss anyway, i hope you enjoy!

“We were thirteen when you first asked me how much I love you.”

Tsukishima pauses, breathing quietly into the microphone in his hand. The crumpled paper with his messy scribbles and blotched inks from black and blue pens continue to bleed against the lines. They overlap each other in droplets and curves, dwindling into shaking words from shaking hands that had tried to craft them for hours and hours to no end, only to slash them out the last minute and bring them back to life a few seconds later. Tsukishima is restless. He had been restless for the past week. Kageyama has told him to get ample amount of sleep, but what does he really know?

“I don’t know if you remember it, really,” he chuckles, “but we were at the playground where we first met when it happened. You were playing on the monkey bars, and I still remember it clearly because you scraped your knee after falling, and I had to put band-aid on your bruise to stop the bleeding. Do you remember that?”

Slowly, Yamaguchi shakes his head. Tsukishima nods at him with a timid smile, the apples of his pale cheeks now a canvas of deep reds. Of course, Yamaguchi wouldn’t remember, but as long as he does, everything will be fine. Even if Yamaguchi never remembers, Tsukishima will, and for as long as the memory lives within him, so will they.

_“Sorry, Tsukki.”_

_Tsukishima grabs his water bottle with a grunt and proceeds to wet his handkerchief with it. Yamaguchi is sitting on the ground with his knees propped against his chest. There is a small scrape resting just above his knee._

_“My hands slipped,” he muses, glancing at the monkey bars he fell off from. He tucks his lower lip in between his teeth as he watches his friend gently fold his handkerchief into a small square._

_Tsukishima kneels on the ground and motions for him to come closer. “Tell me if it hurts,” he says quietly before patting the damp cloth onto his bruised skin._

_Yamaguchi does not complain. Instead, he waits quietly as Tsukishima continues to clean his wound with water and his damp handkerchief. It burned a little, but the pain has now dwindled into a light throbbing that is tolerable at best._

_Tsukishima’s hands are light and fluttering against Yamaguchi’s skin. At one point, he notices the faint remnants of freckles dusting over his knee. He finds that he wants to touch them with his fingertips, to trail along them and connect them like dots. Would Yamaguchi find it weird if he uses his skin as a map for his secrets? With each small freckle he could find, he would fill them with something unspoken despite his young heart still being muddled with the unknown. He wants to erase the bruise carving against Yamaguchi’s golden skin and replace it with his own palm. He wants to touch his freckles the way the sun touches his skin._

_“Is that a Sanrio band-aid?” Yamaguchi asks while Tsukishima unwraps the adhesive with his fingers._

_“They’re all I have...” Tsukishima trails off. They were all his mother gave him before he left the house earlier that day. Akiteru has taken all of the normal ones with him, and he was left with nothing but the pink ones that sported the characters. “Don’t you like it?”_

_Yamaguchi shrugs, smiling. Tsukishima gently puts the band-aid on top of his bruise. “I like it!”_

_Tsukishima nods and pushes himself back onto his feet. Yamaguchi stares at him from the ground, seemingly deep in thought. Tsukishima’s fingers start to twitch._

_“Tsukki?”_

_“What?”_

_“How much do you love me?”_

_Tsukishima pauses. He stares at him. Yamaguchi stares back with eyes as wide as the moon. The playground stays unmoving around them. It stays quiet and still, and the silence accompanies the two of them as Tsukishima thinks deeply about his friend’s question._

_How much does he love Yamaguchi?_

_What is love to a 13-year-old? Is it the hugs and kisses he receives from both his parents and his brother? Is it the smell of freshly baked cookies every Saturday morning? Is it the sound of Yamaguchi’s footsteps along the hallway every time he would come over their house? Or is it the sound of his laughter whenever Akiteru would crack his lame jokes? What is love to him? And how does he measure the amount of love he has for his friend when all he is is a 13-year-old boy whose hands cannot even manage to wrap around a doorknob? His hands are still too small, and his heart is still too young for something so big and grand. How can he find out how much he loves Yamaguchi?_

_He points to his chest, digging his fingernail onto his t-shirt and creating a dent. “From here.”_

_“Huh?”_

“It took me years to find an answer to your question, Tadashi. It took me months after months before I found the answer I was craving for. Days passed, and seasons changed. You were already taking one step forward while I was still stuck in winter, in spring, in summer, and in fall, trying look everywhere for the right answer to your question. How much do I love you?”

A single tear escapes from Yamaguchi’s eyes. Tsukishima lowers the microphone from his mouth and takes a step forward to wrap his arms around him. Yamaguchi is still warm against his embrace. He blinks away the tears forming behind his pair of glasses.

“You good?” he whispers to him when they pulled away.

Yamaguchi nods, chuckling. He lets Tsukishima take his hand in his. “Sorry, Tsukki,” he mutters.

Tsukishima squeezes his hand before letting go.

“I continued to look for the answer in between seasons,” he proceeds, quieter this time around. “I continued to look for it even after summer has melted off our skin during our training camps in Tokyo. I continued to look for it even after leaves have covered the paths we take to school every morning. I looked through piles and piles of snow, hoping for the answer to reveal itself once the ice melts and spring finally arrives, and when it finally did, that’s when I knew.”

_Tsukishima places a hand on his chest._

_The sun is hot against his pale skin, the wind too humid for his liking. He stands at the foot of the small hill where they have been doing their penalty for the past couple of days. His skin is melting against his bones. He’s thirsty. There is a ringing in his ears he cannot seem to place._

_He watches as Yamaguchi finally reaches the top of the hill. He is now one step ahead of him. He always has been. Yamaguchi has always been braver than him, and far more courageous. He wishes to be as great as him in things his brilliant mind cannot seem to attain. If Yamaguchi were to hold his hand, if Yamaguchi were to pull him with him on top of the hill in the middle of the scorching heat, would he finally get to unfold the answer he’s been craving for?_

_Tsukki, how much do you love me?_

_Tsukishima presses his palm closer to his chest. Still not quite close._

* * *

_“Have you thought about where you’re going for college?”_

_Yamaguchi kicks a pile of leaves on the ground. Tsukishima keeps his eyes trained forward, still adjusting to his new pair of glasses, as the two of them walk along the side of the road. Yamaguchi adjusts the scarf around his neck._

_“Not yet,” Tsukishima says. “What about you?”_

_“Honestly? I don’t know yet,” Yamaguchi shrugs and proceeds to kick another pile of leaves. Tsukishima cannot see the point in doing it, but he follows anyway, kicking a few pieces of fallen leaves off the ground as a couple of pieces fall over their heads with a quiet whisper. “That’s why I’m asking you.”_

_Tsukishima turns to him. “Why? Do you want to attend the same university, too?”_

_“Don’t you?”_

_Tsukishima pauses. Yamaguchi smiles and kicks a red leaf off the pavement. Tsukishima lets his gaze follow his movements, trying to memorize every strand of hair falling over Yamaguchi’s eyes and covering a few of his freckles on the bridge of his nose._

_“It’s fine if you don’t...”_

_“No.”_

_“No?”_

_Tsukishima shrugs. “I mean, I want to,” he says, “I want to attend the same university with you.”_

_Yamaguchi smiles. “Okay!”_

_Tsukishima sighs and lifts his gaze to fleet over the falling leaves from above. Closer now._

* * *

_“Tsukki?”_

_Tsukishima lifts his head, squinting. Warm hands touch the base of his neck, a familiar presence wrapping around him as the smell of hot chocolate invaded his nostrils under the merciless cold of Sendai during winter time. Snow pelts against the window from outside their bedroom, quiet and soft in the middle of the chilly night. Yamaguchi presses a soft kiss underneath his jaw._

_“Hot choco?” he hums, inhaling the taller’s scent._

_Tsukishima sighs, feeling himself melt against his lover’s embrace. “Thank you,” he lilts, taking the steaming cup in his freezing hands. Gently, he blows over the steam, nodding to himself internally when he realizes he’s not wearing his glasses._

_“Aren’t you going to sleep yet?” he asks after taking a sip from his drink. Yamaguchi is still leaning against him, the tips of his hair tickling the side of Tsukishima’s hair. The dim light from Tsukishima’s desk illuminates both sides of their faces._

_“I’ll wait for you...”_

_“It’s already past midnght, Tadashi. You have classes tomorrow.”_

_“I’ll be fine, Tsukki.”_

_Tsukishima sighs. He leans closer against Yamaguchi’s hold, closing his eyes when he feels soft kisses being peppered onto the side of his face. Yamaguchi is still warm. He wants to stay in his hold for as long as he can. If he were to be given another lifetime to spend, he would stay within Yamaguchi’s embrace for as long as he can, for as long as he will._

_“I love you,” Yamaguchi murmurs._

_Tsukishima smiles. “I love you, too.”_

_Much, much closer now._

* * *

_Tsukishima proposes to Yamaguchi in spring, when everywhere is nothing but pink. The ice have melted, and trees have bloomed once again. There are no leaves blocking their path, nor is it hot enough to melt their skin. Tsukishima proposes during a new beginning._

_His answer has finally arrived._

“Tadashi,” Tsukishima reaches out a trembling hand and takes Yamaguchi’s fingers in his. “I want you to ask me the same question again.”

Yamaguchi wipes a tear away from his cheek. “How...” he sighs. “How much do you love me?”

Tsukishima points at his chest. “From here,” he says. Then, in front of the altar, he points to Yamaguchi with a smile, “to here,” he lilts.

* * *

_He points to his chest, digging his fingernail onto his t-shirt and creating a dent. “From here.”_

_“Huh?”_

_Tsukishima shrugs. “Nothing,” he grumbles under his breath. “It’s nothing.”_

_“What do you mean by that, Tsukki?” Yamaguchi tilts his head to the side and points at his own chest. “From here?” he mutters to himself._

_Tsukishima continues to watch him. From afar, a cherry blossom tree starts to bloom._

**Author's Note:**

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